


Mine own, and not mine own

by atreic



Category: Midsummer Night's Dream - Shakespeare
Genre: Escape, Fae & Fairies, Friendship, Gen, Misses Clause Challenge, Motherhood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 15:49:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5462264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atreic/pseuds/atreic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is a year after the end of the play, and Athens appears peaceful in the summer sunshine.  But Hermia is missing Helena, now busy with her newborn son.  Hippolyta is missing her kingdom.  Demetrius is still enslaved to the fairy's love spell.  And Titania is plotting how to retrieve her Indian child from Oberon.</p><p>Now Midsummer is approaching, and the worlds of fae and mortal are about to entwine once more...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mine own, and not mine own

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sporkmetender](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sporkmetender/gifts).



Hermia was more resigned than surprised when the messenger arrived, explaining that Helena would not be visiting that day. It was a year since the weddings, and she could count the number of times she’d seen her friend on the fingers of one hand. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, exactly. Helena had been ill with the pregnancy, and then busy with a newborn baby. Hermia had kept making suggestions, offering to visit, trying to make things easier, but there was always some reason why it didn’t work.

Today’s excuse was that little Nedar had been up crying all night, and now they were both exhausted. Hermia turned the note over in her hand. It was polite, charming, courteous, neatly written, and... distant. Just like all the others. Helena was now in the mystical world of Motherhood, and Hermia was outside the fence, an onlooker. A schooldays' friendship, a childish thing, put aside since Helena grew from girl to mother, leaving Hermia alone in a no-man’s land of neither.

Hermia crumpled the note up and threw it in the bin. Then, guiltily, she took it out, smoothed it down, and put it in the drawer with the others. So Helena had cancelled. So what? It was still a beautiful day, the sky the periwinkle blue of early summer, the air warm and tempting. The woods were still her woods, dappled with shade and sunshine. Who would want to be up in the small hours with a colicky baby, when one could be skipping through summer? Company could be pleasant, but it wasn’t needed to enjoy a day like this.

Hermia picked up her book, slipped on her shoes, and went out to enjoy the summer.

***

It was cheering, to be out in the woods. The grass brushed at her ankles as she wandered down the winding paths, bent over with the weight of full heads of seed. Tiny summer flowers peeked out from the brilliant green, curled round tall lacy wild chervil. Eventually she came to a sunny glade with a gently sloping bank of wild thyme, and decided it was too warm to walk any further. She kicked off her shoes and lay back, cushioned in the purple flowers. After a few minutes of desultorily flicking through her book, she closed her eyes and drifted away into sleep.

The voice filled her dreams. Spun from the sweet music of summer, and yet proud and regal, a steel core of command in an intoxicating delight. Opening her eyes, she saw a tall woman, her features shaped with an otherworldly beauty.

‘Who slumbers here upon my bank? A maid of Athens? And on her heart I see the signs of a votive of my order... Why, maid, did _you_ , frail mayfly mortal, stand before the Duke of Athens and claim that you would vow to Diane’s alter? What is your name?’

The voice gave no option but to answer. ‘I am Hermia, my lady, wife of Lysander, and daughter of Egeus of Athens’

‘Fie, a wife? Are vows breathed with such passion so soon forsworn? What pity, mine own and not mine own!’

‘I swore I would live a barren sister before I would marry a man of Athens named Demetrius, who was my father's choice for me. But then - I know not how - Demetrius's love for me returned once more to his first love, Helena, and I was free to wed Lysander, my own choice love who loved me true.'

'And so for love of mortal man you turned from our order? Ah, what fools these mortals be!'

'Foolish, to turn from cold stone, faint hymns, and harsh austerity? For warm arms, soft lips, the joy that is love?' Hermia felt her temper rise in her. 'And who are you, to judge me so?'

The stranger laughed, suddenly, and Hermia's anger dissipated, dandelion seeds floating away in the breeze. 'I am Titania, Queen of the Fairies. And Diane's order has many faces. If the cold stone of an Athens nunnery had not suited you, well, perhaps I would have taken you to the yellow sands of India, or the thick jungles of the rainforest.' She smiled appraisingly, and ran a slow hand down Hermia's cheek. 'I would have taken you many places, my votress.'

Hermia felt a warmth rush through her, and drew back.

'No? That is always a choice. The chase would be no fun if the quarry could not escape. I wish you joy, with your love, and your boy, and your world that fits within the walls of Athens. Just remember, I am always here in the woods. And I have more than one thing that you want.'

Titania faded away, like a shimmering heat haze. Hermia walked home slowly, lost in thought. By the time she reached the walls she had persuaded herself it had been nothing more than a strange dream. Still, it was best to avoid the woods for a little while. The hot air of summer did cause the most troubling fancies.

***

The next week brought Hermia cramps, and blood, and another month of failure. Lysander was so gentle and so kind to her, in a hundred subtle ways that only made his disappointment more tangible. Hermia wrote to Helena, suggesting that they meet, and Helena wrote back in her delicate script, explaining that although that would be lovely, there was so much she needed to do for little Nedar and Demetrius at the moment, she couldn't see it working this month, maybe the next? Hermia felt so flat and miserable that even crumpling up Helena's note seemed too much like hard work. Lysander was busy with work for the Duke, and the empty house and the heat of summer were oppressive and stifling. With nothing else to do, she found herself once more wandering out of the city to the cool shade of the woods.

Titania found her curled up in self pity, gazing out across the glade. She sat down beside her and ran a hand smoothly through her hair. 'Poor little one, so sad.' Hermia found herself floating away as Titania's fingers kneaded and teased. 'Let the fair folk make it better.'

'No-one can make it better.'

'Shhh. We can put a girdle round the earth in forty minutes, direct the point of Cupid's arrow, curdle milk, steal your children and calm the waves of the sea.' She looked deep into Hermia's eyes. 'We _can_ make it better. All we want is for you to take a message to the Duchess of Athens.'

'Could you not tell her yourself?' Hermia queried, even as she lost herself in Titania's smooth persuasion.

'She is Oberon's, and lost to me unless she comes of her own choosing. But you, little half-votress, you can walk between the worlds. So go to Hippolyta, and tell her that it is time for her to beg her boon of Oberon.' Titania's fingers snaked through Hermia's hair, stroking and untangling. 'Tell her that he has a little Indian boy, and grows bored of him already. That, while he would never relinquish the child to me, he would gift him away to her, his mortal dalliance, should she ask. And if she asks, and comes to me with the child on Midsummer's eve, then I will give her what Oberon will not, to return to her people and run free with the wild Amazons once more.'

Hermia was doubtful. Go to the Queen, and accuse her of a fairy lover? But Titania laughed again. 'It is a dream, little one. And while you walk in dreams, anything is possible.' She traced a finger gently down the curve of Hermia's jaw. 'One more thing... There is an Athenian who labours under a spell, laid on him by the fairy king. A herb grows in this wood that can charm the eye such that when the dreamer wakes, whatever is first seen is taken for their true love. And Oberon, in his japes, used this power last Midsummer to make things... neat. Trippingly, sweetly, tidily... neat. Yet, for reasons of my own, I have some sympathy with the Athenian. The currents of love should find their own course, and not be channelled by others into lies.' Titania paused, and reached down and plucked a flower from the bank. 'And here blooms the antidote, Diane's flower, which when applied on sleeping eyes reverses the curse of love.' She placed it on Hermia's lap. 'Find this Athenian, little votress, and set him free once more.'

Hermia looked down at the flower, and a shudder ran through her. An Athenian, whose love had changed suddenly, strangely, and fiercely last Midsummer? She thought of Helena and her family, and the bright summer day felt cold. Then she looked up, and she was alone in the woods once more.

***

'I don't believe it'

Helena's pale pretty features were contorted with rage. Hermia sat by the window, twisting her hands in her lap.

'I don't believe it. I won't believe it. How dare you? He loved me first, you know. What fairy story explains that? You just can't stand it that it's me who's the success, me with the baby, me who's getting on with life. We were friends as long as I was in your shadow, so long as everyone was in love with you, was that it? And now you're just a bitter barren shrew, and you come here with your lies and your fairy tales, and say that none of it's true, that my Demetrius is your Demetrius, and one little plant can unravel a year of my life?'

Hermia sat silently. There was an angry voice inside her head screaming that this was unfair, that she'd done all she could to keep her friendship with Helena alive, that it was Helena who had betrayed _her_ when she'd been escaping the city last year, that it was Helena who had immediately assumed the worst of Hermia on that terrible night in the woods, that she could have just unwound the curse without ever bringing Helena into it, and why was she even trying to keep this friendship alive anyway? But Helena was unravelling into tears in front of her, and it was breaking her heart.

'Hermia. Sweet coz. Tell me it's not true. I know, you would not lie to me, but perhaps you mistook the Athenian the fairy spoke of? Some other wife is wed in lies, but not me. Not my Demetrius. I know him, Hermia, as close as I was to you when we were schoolfellows, and when I am in his arms we are as two bodies with one heart. There is no herb, no potion, that could fake a truth of love so deep.'

Helena stifled a sob, and Hermia reached out and held her close. She stroked her fine fair hair, and the memory of her time with Titania echoed in her mind. 'Hush. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I don’t know. You're right, you're right, some things are true, you love him and he loves you, and no herb on earth could change that. I'm sorry.'

Eventually Helena's sobs subsided. The baby in his crib took up her theme, and she pulled away from Hermia and went and put him to her breast. She looked back. 'I know you care for me, and you want to do what is right. But I love Demetrius, and Demetrius loves me. And I think it would be best if you left now.'

Hermia got up and turned to leave. Helena, pale faced and with a grim set in her lips, the babe still at her breast, reached out to her as she went.

'Hermia? When you go... you can leave the herb...'

***

After her meeting with Helena, Hermia found her audience with Hippolyta strangely straightforward. There was a moment of pure terror, as she faced the proud Queen of the Amazons and with trembling heart said 'Your Majesty, I bring greetings from the Queen of the Fae.' She thought she would drown in the silence that followed. But the Queen did not immediately cast her out, declare her insane, or send her home in disgrace. Instead she looked thoughtful, told Hermia to come and sit with her in the window seat, and asked calmly what Titania would want with one of Oberon's train. After Hermia had explained, her thoughtful look deepened.

'You must understand, it is very difficult. To throw away wealth, and power, to leave one's home and one's husband, and break the trust of one's immortal lover. And for what? A dream of a land that no longer exists, that has been racked by war and changed by time? It should not be done lightly.'

Hippolyta stood up, and for a moment her expression was deep and ineffable. Then a glint of resolve shone in her eyes. 'And it is not done lightly, but it will be done. Love is not won by the sword, and I am not a trophy, bound in chains as spoils of war.' She turned to Hermia. 'You are Athenian, and could not understand. You are bred in mellow climes with gentle woods, and the world within these walls is world enough for you. But who could live their life in walls, who had run barefoot through the forest, watched the soaring flight of the strix and supped storm water from the cataracts that torrent down the high cliffs?'

'Tell Titania I will meet her at the duke's oak in the woods at sunset tomorrow. For tomorrow is Midsummer, and it is time to go home.'

***

Hermia did not sleep well that night. The midsummer sun rose early, and Lysander rode out to hounds with the Duke. Hermia sat listlessly turning the pages of her book, her mind far from the story.

A little after noon, there was a knock at the door. Hermia opened it cautiously, then threw it wide as she saw her old friend standing there. Helena was dressed in light summer clothing, but there was nothing else summery about her. There was a thinness about her expression, as though she was paper that would tear in the slightest breeze, and she clutched little Nedar to her so tightly her knuckles glowed white. A livid bruise glowed on her cheek, and her eyes were red rimmed.

Hermia led her indoors and seated her down on the klinai. Slowly Helena's grip on the baby relaxed and she took the mug of hot kykeon Hermia pressed into her hands. They sat there side by side in silence, sipping at their drinks.

Hermia spoke first. 'You can stay here for as long as you need. If there's anything we can do to help...'

Helena smiled wryly. 'I can't stay in Athens. He couldn't bear it.'

Hermia's temper flared. 'Well, he'll have to bear it. You've done nothing wrong, Helena, and your friends are all here. We'll look after you, and if Demetrius tries anything at all, we'll go to the Duke.'

Helena ran a hand over her swollen cheek. 'It's not as simple as that, is it? He...' Her resolve crumbled, and the tears came. 'He called me witch, enchantress, devil woman. He says that I entrapped him with dark magic, and that Nedar... that Nedar is a changling child of goety, and should not live.'

Hermia drew her friend close to her. 'Shh. It's not true. It's lies and slanders and we will fight them, and it's not true. We know that.'

'No, you don't know, you see...' Helena's sobs were harsher now, her words gasped out. 'I prayed for it. I wanted it. I wanted him to feel for me the same way I felt for him, and I didn't care how. If it wasn't me that laid the herb upon his eyelids, that was not for lack of desire, only from lack of opportunity. I led him to the woods. I broke my vows of friendship to you, lost all sense of what was right, betrayed you and Lysander, in the hope it would win his love. I'm so sorry, Hermia. I really am. Whenever I see you now, all I can think of is the guilt of what I did back then. But I was ready to die last summer. And so... It is my fault. When he looks at me and sees a witch who would ensnare him, it's all true.'

'Oh, coz. My dear sweet coz. That doesn't make it true. If we were all judged by the worst that we had ever wished, there would be none left to do the judging. And we have had a lifetime together, my sister. I have seen the measure of you, and one moment of midsummer madness will not unknot the love I bear for you. You did not do this thing to Demetrius. And you found the strength to undo it, which few could have done. That is not the work of a witch. That is the bravery of someone who puts the freedom of the one they love before their own desires.'

Helena sniffled. 'Not really. I was angry. And I wanted to prove you wrong. I wish... I wish I hadn't.'

'Doing the right thing can hurt so deeply, and can cost us all we have. And maybe we never get to know if it was the right thing, and maybe we always doubt our reasons for doing it. But I think you were brave. Brave and kind and loving.'

'I still love him so much, Hermia. So much. He looked at me like... like I was something he would scrape off the bottom of his sandal, like his flesh crawled at the sight of me, and yet still I longed for him. Sometimes I think I was made to kneel at his feet, to let him do whatever he would with me, until finally all this pain is over forever.' Helena wiped a tear from her eye, and ran a wary hand over her bruised cheek. 'But I'm older than I was last summer. And I've got Nedar to think of. We have to leave, Hermia. If I love Demetrius, we must go where we can no longer shame and anger him. And if I love Nedar, I should go where I can keep him safe.'

'And if you love Helena?'

'Helena? Ah, she will always choose to die by the side of her Demetrius... But maybe if one loved her true they would wish her freedom from her obsession, and a chance to start afresh.'

Hermia squeezed her friend's hand tight. 'I will miss you, my sister. But I will do what I can to help you. I think there is a way I can get you away from the city safely to make a fresh start tonight.'

Helena smiled, a grim, pale, smile that did not reach her eyes, and squeezed Hermia's hand back.

***

The last rays of the sun were shining through the woods as Hermia and Helena arrived at the duke's oak. The green leaves of the oak were edged with a golden lining, and the sky glowed with a rich yellow light ringing the horizon.

Hippolyta was there already, standing by the trunk of the tree. She was dressed in the clothes she had first arrived in Athens in, warrior's weeds of close fitting trousers and a scale armour cuirass. The leather shone in the setting sun, and Hermia wondered how many hours she had spent polishing it, while wearing the fine clothes of a lady of the Athenian court. An Indian child sat at her feet. He was very little, no older than four or five, and he stared at Helena and Hermia warily as they approached. Hippolyta nodded in welcome.

The sun fell below the horizon, and what Hermia had taken for the shadow of the oak tree stepped forwards, and was Titania. She looked Hippolyta in the eyes, and although for a moment the Amazon matched her gaze, the mortal Queen bowed low and regally. Then Titania reached down to the child, but he drew back away from her.

Hippolyta stepped forwards. 'He is four, and he has lived a quarter of his life with Oberon. A year is a long time. It has been a difficult day for him. Give him time, and space.'

Titania laughed, and Hermia felt herself glow, even as she knew it was fairy magic. 'I will give him time, and space. The time Oberon stole from us, the spaces we should have walked with his mother. I will give him yellow sands, and star filled nights, and stories of who he is and where he came from. No more a knight to be trained for war, but crowned in flowers and taught of love.' She laid a hand gently on the child's head, and he looked up in wonder.

Hippolyta smiled wryly. 'If we are to raise him with my people, he will be taught of love and of war. The best of educations are seasoned with both.'

Titania smiled back. 'As you wish. And now we must leave. But I have a debt to pay to my little half-votress.' She walked behind Hermia, wrapped her arms around her, rested her hands lightly on the curve of her stomach. 'You have done well. Now you may ask your boon of me.'

Tears pricked at Hermia's eyes, but she strengthened her resolve. 'My lady, this is my friend Helena, and this her child. They are no longer safe in Athens. My wish is that you take them with you, and find a place where they cannot be found by those who would hurt them, and can live safely, loved, and in peace.'

Titania drew back from Hermia, and looked at her quizzically. 'And this is your deepest wish?'

'Yes, my lady. What greater duty do we have, than to look after those we love?'

Titania looked at Helena, glanced at the babe, and then turned to Hippolyta. 'What do you think? Shall we make Amazons of them? The boys cannot stay forever, but they can stay until they are men.'

Hippolyta grinned. 'Teach them to ride the wild steppe horses, climb the ridges of the high mountains, walk through trackless forest? Make lullabies from the cries of the strix, and swaddling clothes from the skin of the wild cat?' Her eyes sparkled at the memories, and she looked at Helena with a wicked wild smile.

Helena looked nervously down at the baby, her gentle summer dress in stark contrast to Hippolyta's armour. Then she looked across at Hermia, and courage returned to her. 'I... I am not sure if I can do those things. But I am sure that I can try.'

Titania turned once more to Hermia. 'And you, little votress? To travel with six is not so very different as to travel with five. You would be most welcome.'

Hermia felt herself melt into the fairy's wishes. Dreams of wild adventures, high freedom, new excitements danced in her head. But the core of her remained. 'I will stay in Athens with my husband, your Majesty.'

'There is always a choice. Just remember, I am always here in the woods.'

Hermia hugged Helena one last time, holding her close. Their tears mingled as they pressed their cheeks tightly against each other, Helena bending down as Hermia reached up. There was so much she wished to tell her, but the words felt insignificant in the shadow of all she was feeling, so she just held her, her sister, her cousin, the other half of her heart since childhood. 

Eventually, as the light started to fade, they drew apart. Helena gathered Nedar to her breast, Hippolyta held the Indian boy by the hand, and Titania drew both women close to her. Hermia watched them standing there, and as the twilight grew deeper their outlines shifted and faded away into the shadows. Suddenly she could bear it no longer, and with an anguished cry of 'Helena!' she ran to join them... but the shadows were only shadows, what she had taken for the curve of Helena's arm was the branch of a tree, the huddled form of the Indian child only a gnarled root. She was alone in the wood.

She turned, and walked back towards the walls of Athens.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to sporkmetender for such a lovely prompt, and to my fabulous beta readers.
> 
> Err, there is [follow-on crack-fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5474405), which is in a, err, slightly different tone. With hippos!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Parity Error](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5474405) by [atreic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/atreic/pseuds/atreic)




End file.
